


Three A.M.

by AlmostBriarRose



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Everyone is honestly in this, F/M, Johnny Storm is an ASS, they're all idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-27 01:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14414490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmostBriarRose/pseuds/AlmostBriarRose
Summary: Steve is a terrible best friend, isn't home, and Darcy wants to lick his hot roommate's abs.





	1. You aren't Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Hope you guys like this fic! It's going to go up pretty quick, as I'm really only editing it as I go.

**Darcy**

 

“Steven Grant Rogers, you open this door right now,” demanded Darcy Lewis, pounding on the door to her best friend’s apartment. She crossed her arms over her chest, not caring that her breasts were pushed up in an almost obscene way in her low-cut blouse. Her red lips twisted into a scowl as she heard a stumble from the other side of the door.

“What the hell? It’s too early for this shit,” grumbled the man who opened the door. Darcy’s eyes widened. This was most definitely not Steve. “What did the punk do now?” He was hot. Very hot. And cut. Fuck, was she at the wrong place? No, she couldn’t be. She had knocked on this door so many times. The guy at the door stared at her, raising a dark eyebrow and reaching up to push a loose strand of long hair behind his ear. He looked rumpled and sexy, with a pair of black sweatpants riding low on his hips. Holy fuck, his abs were spectacular. And the v of his hips, the dark line of hair that disappeared into his sweats; both were doing wonderful things to Darcy’s body.

“Uh,” was all Darcy could get past her lips. The man was rubbing at his face with one hand, which was doing wonderful things to the muscles of his chest She shook her head, ripping her eyes up from his abs to his well-sculpted pecs to – was his left arm made of _metal_?! Something niggled in the back of her mind, like she should know who he was, but she was too distracted to really think about it.

The guy smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You lookin’ for Steve, doll?” Darcy nearly swooned at his Brooklyn drawl. Steve hid his so well, but this guy didn’t seem to care that he sounded panty-meltingly sexy. He probably sounded even better in the bedroom, in the dark, she mussed, trying to drag her eyes from his cut pecks to the dip of his collarbone and past his chiseled, stubbly jaw. Stubble was hot, especially on him.

“Um, yeah. Captain Asshole ditched me to deal with Johnny Storm at the coffee shop this morning,” she said, regaining her composure and ripping her eyes from his plush lower lip. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown that glowed with mirth.

“Ah, okay then. Well, seein’ as he went out with Stark and Barton last night and never came home, I don’t think I can be much help.” Darcy bit her lip. He obviously knew what his accent did to women, judging by the way the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. He leaned against the door frame, a few strands of his chin-length hair falling into his face. “So how’d you get on the bad side of the Human Torch?”

Darcy scoffed, “More like he got on my bad side. Too many conversations where he couldn’t keep his eyes off the girls. I don’t appreciate when guys tell me we’re dating after a drunken one-night stand. Steve-o was supposed to help me set him straight, because the idiot thinks I’m playing hard to get.” He let out a loud laugh at her statement.

“Tell ya what, doll. In exchange for your finding my best friend and letting me be there when you tear him a new one, I’ll go face down the Human Torch with you,” he said.

“Sounds good by me,” she grinned. “Darcy Lewis, by the way.” She stuck out her hand to shake. His large, warm hand folded around hers, and she let a shiver run through her body.

“James Barnes. But you’ve probably heard Steve call me Bucky.”

Darcy’s jaw dropped. “ _You’re_ Bucky? Oh, well, duh, I should have guessed, what with the arm, but, oh my God, I am so sorry to wake you up and bother you. I’ve heard so much about you! It’s really nice to finally meet you.”

“All good things, I hope,” he laughed. “Sorry I haven’t been so social yet. I only just got back, and Steve has this birdbrained idea that I need to adjust to people.”

“Well, we’re having a movie night tonight. Consider yourself officially invited by Coulson’s PA,” she said. “I’m off to find your buddy, now. Later, James!” She waved and headed for the elevator, a bit of extra sway in her hips. She could feel his eyes burning into her body, and she smirked to herself, happy she had worn her heeled boots with her best skinny jeans. She reached the elevator and turned to see Bucky’s eyes glued shamelessly to her curves. She winked, and he grinned unapologetically as she entered the elevator. The doors slid closed and cut off her wonderful view. “Hey, Jarv?”

“Yes, Miss Lewis?” replied the AI, amused.

“What did I say about calling me Miss Lewis? And where are Steve, Tony, and Clint?”

“Mr. Stark and the Captain are in the lab, and I believe that Agent Barton is on the roof,” said Jarvis, his crisp British accent calm.

“Thanks, Jarv. Can you take me there, first?” The elevator shot up to roof level. Darcy stepped out onto the gusty roof, shivering as the wind bit through her thin blouse. “Clint?” she called out, not seeing him right away.

“Ugh,” came Clint’s disgruntled groan from somewhere to her left. Darcy walked over to stand above the archer. “Move a bit to the left? The sun’s getting real bright.”

“Get up, Hawkass,” she quipped, leaning down to give him a hand. “Let’s go get you some coffee.” Clint pulled himself up and leaned on her a bit, hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “What bright idea brought drunk you to the roof?”

Clint shook his head slowly as they stepped into the elevator. “Jarvis, can you dim the lights, please?” he grunted, squeezing his eyes closed. The lights went down, and Clint opened his eyes. “I think I was trying to catch a hawk,” he admitted to Darcy, leaning against the elevator wall.

She sighed at her adoptive brother’s antics, shaking her head. “You guys used your blackout drunk pass for the month, just so you know.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened into Tony’s lab. “You might want to cover your ears, Barton,” she warned, strutting into the lab, her face a blank mask she had picked up from Natasha. Who was passed out on the couch. Just fucking wonderful; she had been counting on the spy’s ability to scare the living shit out of everyone. “C’mon, Jarvis. Just like last month.” She plugged her ears as the AI began to blare “Call Me Maybe”. Nat jumped up from the couch, gun in one hand, other held to her ear, glaring balefully at the smug PA in front of her.

“Shut it off, Lewis!” yelled Tony from his place on the floor. Steve poked his head up from behind a lab table, his hair rumpled and eyes bloodshot.

“Thanks, Jarvis!” she yelled, and the music stopped. “How’d you guys sleep?” Her Midwestern drawl poked through, reflecting her annoyance with Steve.

“Fuck you, Lewis,” groaned Stark as she walked over to the coffee maker, Clint on her heels. She pressed the start button on the modified coffee maker, and it began to make enough coffee to feed an army of hungover superheroes. She then marched over to Steve, who was squinting at her.

“Quit fucking with me, Rogers. I know you can’t get drunk, so drop the act,” she snarled, tapping the toe of her boot on the floor.

“Tony made me vodka,” he replied, sitting up and groaning. “I haven’t had a headache this bad since I had influenza. Fuck.” Clint walked over with a mug of coffee for Steve, and the super soldier took it gratefully. Darcy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Steve.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, Lewis?” grumbled Tony, who promptly got smacked upside the head by Natasha as she made her way to the coffee maker.  

“Well whoop-de-do, Cap. While you were hungover, I had to deal with one very clingy member of the Fantastic Four who doesn’t get the message that it was a one-night stand and is convinced I want to date him,” she snapped, ignoring Tony completely. Steve’s head shot up, an action which must have hurt like hell, but his eyes were immediately full of guilt.

“Darce, I’m so sorry,” he began to apologize before Darcy cut him off.

“I promised your roomie that I’d wait until he was present to rip you a new one.” She kissed him on the top of his head. “Feel better.” She began to head back out to the kitchen. “Movies tonight, lunch in three hours. I’m going to make a pot of soup.”

Halfway to the kitchen, Darcy stopped off in her room to change out of her heeled boots and slip into a pair of socks covered with ducks. She also swapped out her low-cut blouse for an old flannel shirt before gathering her dark, curly hair into a messy bun on the back of her head. The last step to getting comfortable was to swap out her seldom-worn contacts for her black-framed glasses, which ended up being more of an adventure than she thought. She eventually found her glasses in the kitchenette of her apartment.

Darcy wandered into the kitchen and pulled a stockpot almost as big as her out of the cupboards below the counter. Short as she was, she pulled out the kitchen stepstool too, setting that up beside the pot. She filled the pot with water and set to work cutting up two chickens and enough vegetables to feed an army.

“Hey, Darcy,” chimed Bruce Banner, walking into the kitchen. She looked up at the fluffy-haired scientist and offered him a huge smile.

“Hiya Doc! You busy?” She continued to chop chicken as the scientist took a seat across the counter from her.

“Not really, do you need help?” he asked, a tired grin on his face. Darcy set her knife down and washed her hands. Strolling over to the scientist, she proceeded to stare at his face. “Darce? Everything good?”

She poked at the dark circles under his eyes before asking, “When did you last sleep? And I don’t mean a cat nap. When did you last hit a full REM cycle?”

“Um, maybe… Monday?” he replied, tapping at his chin.

“Bruce, c’mon, you gotta sleep,” she scolded. He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off before he could even get a word out. “Science can wait. Sit. I’ll make you a cup of chamomile tea, and then I’ll make sure nobody disturbs you until movies tonight, okay?” He just nodded, knowing better than to argue with the force of nature that was a concerned Darcy Lewis. She set to work making a mug of the relaxing tea as Bruce scrolled through his tablet at the island.

“Thank you, Darcy. How did things with Sue’s younger brother go?” he asked as she left the teakettle to boil and filled her submarine-shaped tea infuser with her favorite sleepytime tea for him, and her t-rex tea infuser with mint tea for herself.

“They didn’t. Tony managed to finally find an alcohol with a proof high enough to get Steve drunk, so, instead of coming with me to be my fake-boyfriend and get Johnny off my case, he spent the morning sleeping in the lab,” she replied, shaking her head and pushing her glasses up slightly to rub the bridge of her nose. “I want Johnny off my ass and fast. He keeps calling.” To punctuate her point, her phone rang. One look at the caller ID had it flung over to Bruce. He looked at Darcy pointedly. She shrugged helplessly.

With a huge sigh, Bruce answered the phone, “Hello? Yes, hi Johnny. Darcy’s currently very busy at the moment. Yeah, okay. Say hi to your sister for me. Bye.” He tossed the phone back to Darcy who smiled at him as she poured hot water into their mugs.

“Thank you, Big Green,” she said, handing him the mug with the little submarine floating in it. She dropped a kiss on his cheek as he grinned, despite his reluctance to lie for her.

“Sure, but this is the last time. Fix it.” He took a sip of his tea, and Darcy got back to work. She dumped the chicken into the giant pot, turned up the heat, and set to work chopping carrots, celery, onions, potatoes, and all manner of other herbs and vegetables. Bruce sat there, sipping at his tea and sharing idle chatter. The rest of the Avengers steadily ended up either in the kitchen area, or in front of the mammoth television in the adjoining room. Steve came in and apologized just as she dumped in the last of the vegetables.

“Darce, I’m so sorry,” he said, coming up to the island.

“Can’t yell at you until James is here. I promised,” she commented. She wasn’t really mad at Steve, not anymore. But she wanted to keep him on his toes, a tactic she had learned from Natasha. The redheaded spy had a reputation for having a temper, though she was the most mild-mannered woman Darcy had ever met. Natasha did enjoy perpetuating the rumors, though. It always made for a good laugh on girls’ night.

Steve gulped as Darcy smiled innocently up at him. She shoved gently at him to gain access to the cabinets that contained flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. “Darce, seriously. I am so sorry,” he tried again. She just grinned at him again and pulled down the ingredients for Gramma Lewis’ famous double chocolate chip cookies.

“Can you grab me some butter? Two pounds, please,” she said, pulling a few boxes of bakers chocolate out of another cupboard. She began to chop it into bits as Steve set the butter down at her elbow and tried again.

“Darcy, please. I’m really so sorry, and I promise we’ll go tomorrow, and-“

“You might want to give the girl some space, Steve,” drawled a panty-destroying Brooklyn accent from by the door. Darcy jumped and nicked her finger on the blade of her knife, glaring over at Bucky, who immediately looked contrite.


	2. Bucky Might Be In Over His Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is a bombshell, and Bucky is most definitely in over his head trying to impress the most impressive dame he's ever met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! This chapter picks up right after Darcy heads off to find all of her hungover friends, and is from Bucky's POV. Hopefully I got him right... Hope you enjoy!

**Bucky POV**

Bucky shut the door as the elevator doors closed. “Damn, that’s some woman,” he said aloud to the empty apartment. He shook his head and scratched his chest, walking back to the couch to continue his game of Call of Duty: Black Ops. He blamed his enjoyment of the game entirely on Clint. The archer had dropped by – quite literally, as he accidentally fell out of the air vent by the television – one day while Steve was at the gym. Bucky had just stared blankly at the dripping wet, half naked archer in the middle of his living room.

“Hide me,” was all that Clint had said, so Bucky shrugged and turned to go get him a towel. From there, the two had become fast friends, and Clint had even begun to use the door recently. Once, he had brought over a PS4 and all the Call of Duty games, and Bucky was hooked. Bucky shook his head out of the, thankfully happy, memory as he sat down on the couch. He slid the headset back onto his head and sprinted from his hiding spot to join his team.

An hour later, Steve stumbled back into the room in yesterday’s rumpled clothes. “Hey, punk. A dame stopped by earlier, lookin’ for ya,” he said in greeting, not looking away from his game, but pushing the mic away from his mouth. He rarely actually spoke to the other players on his server, even Clint, but he listened in and did his part. It helped him relax and focus better than punching bags and sparring matches with Steve could.

Steve froze, head shooting up to look at Bucky. “Fuck. Buck, I am so sorry you had to deal with Hurricane Darcy.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and signed off the game. He turned to look at Steve, a huge grin on his face, “It was no big deal. She’s a helluva dame, Stevie, I understand why you’re keepin’ her to yourself. She found you, I take it?” The incredulous look on Steve’s face was quickly replaced by one of shame as he nodded. “Go shower, idiot,” laughed Bucky as he stood from the couch to turn off the game system. Steve slouched his way into his room, and the door clicked shut behind him. Bucky stretched his arms above his head; the pull on the tight muscles in his shoulder blades felt delicious. He went into his room to change into clothes more suited for going out of the apartment and impressing a gorgeous woman. He left his sweats crumpled on his bed as he pulled on a pair of jeans and grabbed a black t-shirt from his drawer. As he was pulling it over his head, he called out to Jarvis. “Jarvis? Could you do me a favor?”

“How may I help you, Sargent Barnes?” replied the smooth voice of the automated butler.

“Where is Darcy?” he asked. He felt a bit skeevy, but he was incredibly curious about the woman who had showed up at the door, ready to rip Captain America a new asshole.

“Darcy is currently in the kitchen, making lunch for the team,” replied Jarvis.

“Thanks,” replied Bucky absently, combing through his tangled hair. He frowned as his fingers caught on a knot; maybe it was finally time to cut it. He liked how it was different from the Bucky he had been before the Fall, but he felt like it was too reminiscent of the Winter Soldier. “Hey, Jarvis? Where can I go to get my hair cut?”

The AI paused before replying, “There is a barber two blocks over that Captain Rogers goes to often.” Bucky nodded and headed toward the door.

“I’m goin’ out, be back in an hour,” he called to Steve, then rushed out the door before the super soldier could respond. He stepped into the elevator, still pulling his jacket onto his shoulders and his shoes untied. He had one of Stark’s prototype camouflage devices in his pocket, and he quickly stuck it to his arm and activated it. A holographic image of a flesh arm flashed into existence, helping to hide his identity.

He made it to the lobby with tied shoes and his jacket on before he pulled his Stark phone out of his pocket and called Jarvis. “Hey Jarvis, which way is the barber shop?”

“Take a left out of the building and walk two blocks south. Ellenwood’s Barber Shop will be on your left,” replied the AI.

“Thank you, Jarvis,” replied Bucky before hanging up. He checked his wallet to make sure he had some cash and swore when he was greeted by a puff of dust. Clint was in deep shit for using Bucky’s money to pay for pizza every game night. He shook his head and walked down the street towards the barber shop, hoping he passed an ATM along the way. Clint had taught him how to use one, though the action was intensely familiar, so Bucky could only assume the Soldier had used them at some point. Twenty minutes later, he had passed an ATM and found himself outside of a traditional barber shop. The tiny storefront was smashed in between a snazzy coffee shop and a huge office building, and Bucky smiled. He walked inside and took a seat in the waiting area and picked up the newspaper from the table in front of him. A few minutes later, a kind looking man approached Bucky after bidding the previous customer farewell.

“Hello, my name’s Mike. How may I help you?” greeted a man with dark, graying hair. He held his hand out to shake, and Bucky stood up and shook his hand.

“James. I need a haircut, but I’m not sure what I want,” he replied, following Mike to the empty chair.

Mike nodded, poking his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Do you want to keep it long, like this? Or do you want to get rid of most of it?” asked the barber. Bucky thought for a moment, thinking back to the old photos Steve had around the apartment.

“Shorter definitely. Something easy to deal with on the go,” decided Bucky. He needed something that wouldn’t get in his way but still looked good. After all, he had his eye on a girl. He couldn’t look like a hobo, as Clint had once called him.

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands,” assured Mike, picking up his scissors. He began to cut Bucky’s hair, a steady stream of conversation falling easily from his lips. “So, James, are you new to New York?”

“I was born here, but then I went away for a while. I just got back last month,” Bucky replied as the barber snipped away. The long strands of hair fell to the floor, and Bucky felt lighter after every _snickt_ of the scissors.

“All done,” said Mike, pulling the apron off with a flourish. Bucky had been in the chair for nearly a half hour, and as he leaned forward to run a hand through his hair, he grinned. It was a clean cut, cropped close to his head on the sides and in the back, but still had length in the front. It was parted to the side, and the fringe of his dark brown hair hung above his eyebrows for the first time since he could remember.  

“Thank you so much, man,” he said, standing and shaking Mike’s hand. “How much do I owe?”

“Twenty-one,” replied the barber, hanging up the apron and walking to the front register. Bucky paid the man and left with a wave.

“See you around!” he called over his shoulder. He was whistling as he walked back to the tower. He felt the stares of a few women as he passed, and a grin spread across his face. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed the appreciative stares on the street. His mind shot back to that morning, and his grin got even wider. He wondered what Darcy would think of his hair. That thought startled him, as he hadn’t even known the girl for twelve hours and he was already wondering what she would think of him. He rubbed a hand across his chin and resolved to go back upstairs and shave quickly. He walked into the tower and headed straight upstairs, grinning widely at the security guards. Leaving his shoes and jacket by the door, he deactivated the camouflage device and went to his bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he grimaced at the state of his stubble. He could swear he had shaved just yesterday morning.

He pulled his shaving kit from the cabinet above the sink and got to work. The scrape of the razor along his skin was comforting as he stripped away the growing beard. It only took him a few minutes, and he was patting Old Spice aftershave onto his face and heading out the door soon after. The sting of the aftershave felt invigorating, and Bucky headed up to the kitchen, noticing that it was still well before noon and hoping Darcy still had some soup cooking.

He strolled into the kitchen to see Steve pleading with Darcy to forgive him as the brunette began to chop some chocolate. “You might want to give the girl some space, Steve,” he drawled, leaning against the counter near the door. Darcy jumped and glared over at Bucky. She brought the knife over to the sink and washed it before beginning to scrub at a place on her finger.

“Fuck, Barnes, you need a bell,” she swore, glaring at him. “You almost made me cut my finger off.” He was over by her side in seconds, pulling her finger from under the water to examine the cut. “Jeez, James, I’m fine. I was exaggerating.” She pulled her hand back gently, and he felt her eyes roam over his face.

“I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized, rubbing at the back of his neck. He smirked a bit when Darcy’s eyes darted to his bicep. She pulled her plush, dark pink lower lip in between her teeth, and a shiver went down his spine. He realized that they were standing extremely close together, and he felt a strange sensation moving from his neck up to his cheeks. Darcy began to giggle, and he looked down, his hair flopping down over his forehead as he recognized the feeling as a blush. James Barnes did not blush.

“It’s fine,” she said, a huge grin splitting her face as she squeezed past him to finish chopping up the big block of chocolate. Bucky moved over to the large stockpot on the counter and peered over the top. Damn, it was a big pot of soup. He went to lift the lid to smell it, but there was a whipping noise and then a stinging sensation on his left ass cheek. He turned to see what was up, and Darcy was mixing butter and sugar together in a bowl with a green towel slung over her shoulder. He raised an eyebrow and moved to open the pot lid again, not moving his eyes off her. She didn’t turn around, but she grabbed the towel and flicked the front of his hipbone with it. A slow grin spread across his face.  

“The hell, Darcy?” he teased, going for the soup again, testing her reflexes. She hit him with the towel again, this time barely an inch to the left of his dick. _Fuck_. She was scary.

“Don’t touch the soup,” she said, turning to place the chocolate into the microwave with one hand while stirring eggs and vanilla into the big bowl with the other. “It’s still got twenty minutes. Go get me the bag of chocolate chips from the pantry, if you insist on staying in my kitchen.”

Bucky looked around for backup, but Steve had disappeared. “Fine.” He strolled over to the pantry and dug out a huge bag of chocolate chips, which he then set on the counter. Hoping to avoid being ordered around, he went to the fridge to see what there was to drink. He found a can of Coke and took it to the island stools, where he could sit and watch Darcy work. She was mixing the chocolate chips into a huge mixing bowl, and she dipped her finger in the batter to taste it.

“Want some?” she asked, pulling out a handful of spoons. He raised an eyebrow at her and opened his mouth to speak but was stopped from saying anything by the spoon that she shoved in his mouth. “Who wants some cookie dough?” she called out, and the whole team came stampeding into the kitchen. Bucky sucked the cookie dough off the spoon thoughtfully as he watched the Avengers interact with the intriguing brunette in front of him. Tony ruffled her hair, and she whacked him with a spoon. Clint poked her in the sides and Natasha smacked him upside the head when Darcy jumped. Bruce grinned, more at ease than Bucky had ever seen him, Sam Wilson stuck his spoon in his mouth quite greedily, Steve wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into a half hug – which he also got hit with the wooden spoon for, which made Bucky grin – and Pepper, Jane, and Thor all tried to sneak more cookie dough. He was impressed by the way they all seemed to care about her and how she was such a part of their world. She proceeded to shoo everyone out quickly, claiming that they were all in her way.

“You good, Buck?” asked Steve, walking over, still rubbing at his forehead where the spoon had connected with him.

“Yeah, I think I am. I’m actually pretty hungry, too,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Darcy. “C’mon pin-up girl, when’s the soup done?”

Darcy returned his stare for a moment before turning and walking over to the soup, her hips swaying with the simple movement. His eyes were glued to the lush curve of her hips and ass as she walked. “Now. But you got another thing comin’ if you think you get the first bowl, soldier.” She waved a ladle that had seemingly appeared from nowhere at him. “Now put that height to good use and get me some bowls.” She moved to fish out spoons as Bucky stood up and went to get the bowls. The cupboard was right above the silverware drawer, which Darcy was currently rummaging through. An idea sparked in the back of Bucky’s mind, and he reached over her to get the bowls. He pressed his body flush against hers, and he felt her breath catch as her back stiffened.

“Sorry, doll,” he breathed in her ear as he balanced the entire stack of bowls in his metal hand. He let his other hand brush against her neck as he lifted it to close the cabinet. “Where do you want me to put these?”

“Just-just over there, by the soup,” she stuttered, and he grinned smugly at that. He carefully backed away and turned to see Steve raising an eyebrow at him. Bucky just shrugged and winked at his best friend. He set the bowls down and turned, only to find Darcy pressed up against him, spoons in one hand, towel over one shoulder, and a sexy little smirk twisting her lips. “Need something, James?” She said his given name in a way that made him want to lift her up onto the counter behind her and _worship_ her. He took a deep breath, trying to control his blood pressure and stepped back. Darcy followed him, and he bit back a groan.

“Fuck, doll, gimme a break. ‘Sides, the team must be hungry,” he said, voice low.

“Darcyyyyyy,” whined Tony, coming back into the kitchen, “where’s the soup? I’m hung- oh. No hanky panky in my kitchen!” Bucky whipped his head around to glare at the laughing billionaire.

“It’s my kitchen and we both know that, Tony,” replied Darcy, seeming unfazed by what had just transpired. She served up soup and everyone came and crowded around. True to her word, Bucky did not get the first bowl of soup.


	3. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A run in with Johnny Storm almost ruins Darcy's day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do like Johnny Storm, but this fic just demanded he be an asshole. Sorry guys! Also, I love the idea of Darcy being chill with the weird because her cool cousin Phil used to bring her to work with him to teach her self defense when she was a teenager.

**Darcy**

 

Darcy stood at the sink, washing the dishes from lunch. The cookies were being dutifully scooped by Natasha, who had elbowed her way into the kitchen. The redheaded assassin liked to bake, and Darcy appreciated the company. She scrubbed at the soup pot under scalding water and glanced over at Bucky, Steve, and Clint. The boys were all joking and scarfing their second bowl of soup like it would be their last meal. She found her eyes lingering on Bucky’s clean-shaven jaw and remembering the smell of Old Spice that had surrounded her when he was close. She suddenly had an unbidden vision of the metal-armed hero sitting backwards astride a horse on a beach, and she couldn’t contain her laughter. Everyone looked over at her curiously, but she just continued to laugh, leaning over the sink. Her shirt was getting wet, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Darce? You okay?” asked Natasha, moving next to the girl to turn off the tap after sliding the last tray of cookies into the oven.

“Bucky. Old Spice. Horse,” she gasped, unable to breathe through what must now sound like dying fish noises. Natasha took a second to understand, but dutiful best friend/sister that she was, she went over to sniff the former assassin and began to laugh as well, though not quite as violently as Darcy.

“Well then,” said Clint uncomfortably. “I’m going to go work out. Care to join me, Buck?” Bucky looked at Darcy, concerned, but nodded, following the archer as he got up.

“You two are weird,” commented Tony as he kissed Pepper and headed down to the lab, Bruce and Jane on his heels. Natasha and Darcy kept giggling. Thor wandered over and commandeered the cookie dough bowl to scrape out the excess as Steve picked up a towel and began to dry dishes.

“What was so funny?” asked Pepper, handing Darcy a kitchen towel.

Darcy burst out laughing again, so Natasha tried to explain, “Bucky was wearing Old Spice.” She couldn’t get any farther because she made eye contact with Darcy and collapsed into another fit of giggles.

“This is really disconcerting,” mumbled Steve, who just got whacked over the head with a slightly soapy wooden spoon by a still-gasping Darcy.

“Horse,” she managed to wheeze out. “Backwards.” She collapsed into giggles as Pepper looked at her strangely for a second before making the connection. She began to giggle as well.

“Oh god,” muttered Steve, setting down the bowls that he had just dried. “Thor, how about we go spar?” The god nodded and followed Steve out. The three girls continued to clean up, giggles saturating the room every few minutes.

About an hour later, the big clock that hung over the bar chimed three o’clock, and Darcy jumped. “Shit, I have to go take care of some stuff at the office,” she said, moving to place the glasses they had been drinking out of in the sink. “Jarvis, can you put in the pizza order in about an hour for delivery at seven? And can you add another meat lovers in there, too?”

“Of course, Darcy,” he replied.

“Thanks, Jarv,” she said. “I’ll see you ladies at movie night, okay?” Natasha and Pepper nodded, smiling at Darcy. She kissed them both on the cheek and sprinted down to her room to change into a pair of boots and a sweater. She wrangled her hair into a slightly more professional braid and touched up her makeup before rushing out the door.

She passed Bucky and Clint in the hallway and waved at them as she passed. “Don’t be late for movie night, Darce!” called Clint. “It’s my night to pick and you promised me you’d watch this one!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know! I’ll see you boys later,” she waved over her shoulder.

She stepped into the elevator, and Jarvis closed the doors and took her downstairs. She stepped out into the office levels of Stark Industries before hurrying to her own spacious office. She waved at Coulson through his open office door, and he raised his coffee cup in greeting. “Time to cut you off, Phil! Aunt Caroline is gonna kill me if she finds out you’re not taking care of yourself, especially because you just got cleared for duty again.”

“It’s tea!” he called back, sticking his tongue out at her. Darcy laughed and stepped into her office to finish her work.  

**.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.**

“Hey, Darcy, it’s time to call it,” said Coulson, tapping on Darcy’s shoulder. She jumped, accidently mashing her fingers into the keyboard. She looked at the clock as she backspaced in her document. It was six thirty.

“Fuck,” she exclaimed. She saved her document and logged out of her computer before spinning to face her boss. “You coming to movie night? I got a veggie pizza with your name on it. And I made Grandma Andrea’s famous cookies.” Her cousin grinned at her.

“Wouldn’t miss it, Darce,” he replied, grinning at his younger cousin. “Seven, right?”

“Yep! See ya later, Phil!” she called, grabbing her purse before standing and kissing her cousin/boss on the cheek. She skidded down the hallway in her boots and ran smack into someone. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, trying to move away.

“Babe!” exclaimed the man she had crashed into. Darcy froze, recognizing the voice immediately. Of course, with her rotten luck, she’d run into Johnny fucking Storm.

“Johnny, hey,” she muttered, looking for a way to get out of this.

“So, you busy tonight? Cause I was thinkin’ that we could go catch a movie or grab dinner, ya know,” he said, not letting her move further away than he could reach. She made eye contact with one of the lab techs who was delivering papers and sent him a pleading look, but he just scoffed and walked away.

“Uh, yeah, I have plans with, um, Nat. And Pepper,” she said, trying to shift away without making it too obvious. The last thing she needed was him realizing she was trying to run away and think she was weak.

Johnny rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer, “Awww, c’mon babe, you can’t cancel?” Darcy grimaced and tried to maneuver her hand into her pocket to grab her tazer. Fuck the Fantastic Four, she was DONE with this bullshit.

“Darcy, I need you to check over this paperwork for me before tomorrow, okay?” said Phil, hurrying down the hall to her rescue. She wormed her way out of Storm’s grasp and hurried to her cousin’s side.

“I’ll get right on it, Coulson, thanks,” she said, taking the file folder from him and flipping through the papers inside. All of which seemed to consist of crude drawings and scrawled notes. She hid a smile behind a particularly funny one of Clint as Cupid as she realized these were the doodles the team did during briefings and boring meetings. She recognized this one as the work of Natasha, and she saw a sketch of Maria done by Bruce underneath it. She turned back to Johnny and said, “Sorry, but it seems I have a lot to do. Bye.” She hurried past him, her boots clicking vigorously as she walked away, Phil next to her.

He looked at her, a glint of annoyance in his eye. “You need to-”

“Take care of it, I know. He just doesn’t seem to get the hint,” she hissed back. “I tried to get him off my case this morning, but Steve bailed on me.” They made it to the elevator, and Darcy reached into her pocket for her phone. She had a text from Jarvis, letting her know that the pizza was ordered, and one from Nat, telling her to hurry the hell up before she lost the battle of defending the cookies. She tapped back a reply as she continued to babble to Phil. “Why is he so convinced we’re a thing?  Like, it doesn’t even make sense. It was one drunken night-”

“And then sixteen events afterwards to make nice with the Fantastic Four,” added Phil, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Darce, he’s a playboy who’s used to getting what and who he wants. He doesn’t understand the word ‘no’.” Darcy groaned leaned her head back against the wall of the elevator.

“Can we just get to the private floors, please?”

 

**.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.**

Darcy was curled up on the couch with a glass of wine as the credits for the first movie rolled. She stretched a bit, her spine cracking. The rest of the team did the same, moving around a bit before the second movie started. A beer bottle clinked against something metal, and Darcy’s eyes immediately shot to James, who was sprawled out on the floor, leaning against the couch she was curled up on one end of. She had noticed his shave and haircut earlier, and, fuck, clean cut was a good look on him. He didn’t look like a grungy hobo anymore, and the way his hair kept flopping over his forehead was boyish and endearing.

“What movie’s next?” asked Clint, not moving from his spot sprawled across Natasha’s lap. Her hands were threading through his hair absently, and his eyes were only half-open.

“I believe the next film is ‘The Brothers’ Grimm’,” replied Jarvis. Darcy whooped out loud; finally, they had gotten to her favorite.

“Just wait, guys, this one’s awesome. Matt Damon and Heath Ledger work so well together, and Lena Heady is the perfect mix of leading lady and badass,” she explained after receiving a few raised eyebrows.

“Whatever you say, Darce,” snorted Tony, wrapping an arm around Pepper. The redhead snuggled into his side, a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other. Darcy stuck her tongue out at the engineer and settled in to watch the movie. As the haunting music began to play, she saw James lean forward a bit in anticipation.

“You don’t have to sit on the floor, you know,” she whispered to him, leaning over so she was closer to his ear. He looked over and flashed a crooked smile before hauling himself up onto the couch. Darcy shifted positions so that she wasn’t quite so curled up, moving a bit closer to Bucky. Eowyn, one of the few cats that had been brought into the tower despite Tony’s initial objections, made an appearance then, winding around Bucky’s feet before hopping up onto the couch to curl up in between Darcy and Bucky.

“Cute cat,” whispered James, leaning over to stroke the animal’s pale-yellow fur.

“Mhm, she’s a cuddler,” replied Darcy. Bucky grinned and opened his mouth to say something. Darcy rolled her eyes and shoved a cookie into his mouth. He looked at her indignantly as he chewed, and she giggled. Eowyn curled up on Darcy’s foot and another cat, called Zaphod – Jane and Bruce’s lab cat – curled up between her and Bucky. Bucky stroked Zaphod’s calico fur absently as the movie continued to play. Darcy stifled a yawn and pulled Eowyn into her lap. She received a green-eyed glare in return, but the cat accepted her love and didn’t move. 

Halfway through the movie, Darcy found herself a even closer to Bucky, who now had Zaphod on his lap, Eowyn burrowed into his side, and another cat called Tribble on his shoulder. He had slung his arm over the back of his couch, and his hand was resting on the far side of Darcy’s head. There was the clicking of a camera, and Darcy giggled as Bucky glared at Sam, who had just snapped a picture of him covered in cats.

“What’s so funny?” he whispered in her ear, leaning down and displacing Tribble, who hissed. Darcy shook her head and focused back on the movie. “C’mon, doll,” he whined, “what’s so funny?” He began to poke her in the side, and she giggled again. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll tickle you.”

“Fine, fine,” she giggled. “Big bad assassin, all covered in fluffy cats. It’s cute.” Bucky rolled his eyes at her and stroked his hand down Zaphod’s back while returning his attention to the screen.

The movie went on for another fifteen minutes before Darcy’s phone buzzed. She groaned as she looked at the caller id, her head falling back against the crook of Bucky’s elbow. “Who is it?” he whispered as she punched ‘ignore.’

“The Flaming Idiot,” she growled, so done with Johnny’s bullshit. Her phone immediately buzzed again. She hit ignore again. Everyone was staring at her, the movie paused.

“Darce? Do you need to take that call?” asked Pepper, looking confused.

“No force in this universe could make me answer that phone,” she replied as it rang for a third time.

“Storm?” asked Tony, sympathetic look in his eye. Darcy knew he understood her pain, because, even though he was now with Pepper, he still had to field calls from needy, clingy fangirls. All the Avengers did. One girl that Clint had saved hadn’t stopped calling until he and Darcy had ‘butt-dialed’ her and made sex noises. That had been interesting for Thor and Steve to walk in on.

“He won’t take the hint,” she growled. “I told him I don’t want to go out with him, but he keeps calling and asking me out, and I can’t fucking take it anymore! I tried subtle, I tried rude, I tried lying; I’ve tried everything short of tasing his ass. Which I almost did today.” She suddenly found herself crying and surrounded by Avengers. Bucky had pulled his arm tighter around her, smashing Eowyn between them, Pepper was perched on the back of the couch, running a soothing hand through Darcy’s hair, Clint was on her other side, Natasha and Jane at her feet, heads resting on her knees.

“Do you wish for me to go and inform him of his indiscretion?” asked Thor, fingers twitching towards Mjolnir.

“Seriously, Darce, we could just go and teach him a lesson Avengers-style,” agreed Tony, leaning next to Pepper.

“Hell no,” she growled. “I’ve worked my ass off to get the Fantastic Four to work with us. You are _not_ ruining that because of me. Let me take care of it, okay?” Everyone grumbled but nodded.

“I could go talk to Sue, see if she can talk some sense into him?” suggested Bruce.

“No,” she replied, voice firm. She wiped away the last tear. “I’m really grateful that you all are willing to help, but I’m not in danger. This is just annoying. I’ll take care of it, alright?” The team nodded and went back to their seats. Bucky kept her close to his side though. She knew they had only officially met that morning, but she was happy with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his fingers tracing patterns on her upper arm. The rest of the movie passed in relative silence after Darcy turned off her phone.

Eventually the movie ended and Darcy decided to call it a night. “Night, guys. Thank you,” she said, standing, stretching, and walking out with a wave as Eowyn trotted after her. She could feel Bucky’s eyes on her, but not in the same thrilling way as earlier. This was a heavier gaze, and it made her insides twist up. She shook her head, heading to her room to find her favorite penguin pants and old t-shirt to curl up in.

 


	4. Waffles with a side of angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy doesn't deal with her problems well. She also doesn't do well at accepting help with said combustible problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 4! I'm going to try and finish editing the last two chapters tonight so I can post them quickly.  
> If you're enjoying this story, I do have some others set in this universe, so let me know if you want to see those, too!

**Bucky POV**

 

Bucky looked up from his mug of coffee as Darcy sleepily padded into the communal kitchen. He waited until she had her favorite giraffe mug full of coffee and had taken a couple of sips before greeting her, “Mornin’ Darce.” It had been almost three months since they’d officially met, and she had quickly become a permanent fixture in his life. He rarely spent his time in the apartment anymore, instead choosing to let her teach him how to cook, sparring with her – he had learned quickly that while she looked deliciously soft and delicate, she was far from it – and just hanging out with her, Steve, and Clint. The four of them had standing game nights every week, where Steve and Darcy destroyed everyone at MarioKart on a regular basis.

“Hey Jim,” she said, and he curled his lip in distaste. He hated that nickname. She shot him a cheeky smile over her coffee mug before fishing out a big silver mixing bowl and some ingredients. “Waffles?” He nodded eagerly, and she laughed. She turned to fish out the waffle maker, and he took a moment to admire her. She was clad in plaid pajama pants that he was almost sure had belonged to Clint at one point, her hair was tied up into a messy bun, and – he swallowed hard – was she wearing his shirt? They had been flirting ever since they met, and now she had escalated to wearing his clothes? Where had she even gotten it? And perhaps most importantly, was she actively _trying_ to kill him?

“James? You alright?” she asked, waving her hands in front of his face. He must have zoned out completely. She was standing a few feet in front of him, and, yeah, that was _definitely_ the Cubs t-shirt he had picked up after they won the series.

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” he said, shaking his head. His hair was starting to get longer again, and he made a mental note to go get a haircut sometime this week. “You said waffles, right?”

She looked at him, forehead furrowed in concern and replied, “Yeah. You wanna cut up some strawberries for me?” He nodded and moved to pull the container of fresh strawberries from the fridge. He quickly washed the strawberries and set them out to dry next to the cutting board. He had just grabbed a paring knife when there was a sudden loud noise. He jumped, switched the grip on his knife, and spun around. Darcy was fiddling with her phone, face blank.

“You okay?” he asked, setting down the knife and moving towards her. He got a glimpse of the name on the caller ID before the screen went black. His jaw tightened as the words “Flaming Asshole” flashed on her screen.

“Y-yeah, it’s nothing,” she said, turning and giving him a smile that was just a bit _too_ bright. He didn’t press her for information but promised himself he’d talk to Coulson about it later. Maybe Darcy’s cousin could get some information that he couldn’t. He began to efficiently slice strawberries, unable to focus on anything but how often Storm was harassing Darcy. She had said she’d take care of it multiple times, but evidently still hadn’t.

“You know I’m always here for you if you need anything, right doll?” he said, turning to look at her. She looked up from whisking and gave him a small smile.

“Thank you, James,” she replied, turning back to her waffle batter. She poured a ladleful into the hot waffle press and began to make whipped cream. “Hey, Jarvis? Can you tell everyone that we’re making breakfast?”

“Of course, Darcy,” the AI replied.

Twenty minutes later found most of the Avengers gathered in the kitchen around a steaming pile of waffles with fruit and fresh whipped cream. “Darcy, these are phenomenal,” mumbled Steve around a mouthful of food.

“Chew your food,” she said offhandedly as she shoveled a spoonful of whipped cream into her mouth. Bucky couldn’t help but stare at the smear of whipped cream on her lip. Her tongue darted out to swipe it off, and he had to shove a forkful of food into his mouth to cover up the groan that he couldn’t suppress.

“James, you’ll help me with the dishes, right?” she asked, looking over at him after the plate of waffles had been emptied. She had the rest of the bowl of whipped cream in front of her, a spoon in her hand. She scooped some up and put it into her mouth, delicately licking the fluffy white topping off of the spoon.

“Yep, of course,” he managed to say, biting the inside of his cheek as she did it again. He hurried to grab the dishes and put them in the sink, not able to watch Darcy lick the spoon that way without imagining other things that were _not_ appropriate, especially given they weren’t alone. He was so screwed. He began to methodically scrub at the dishes, washing them before placing them in the drying rack. Darcy appeared next to him, a towel thrown over her shoulder, and began to dry and put away the dishes that she could reach. Which weren’t very many, because, although they might call it Darcy’s kitchen, it had obviously been designed for someone taller. Her phone rang, buzzing across the counter, and she jumped, nearly dropping a plate. Bucky’s quick reflexes allowed him to catch it before it hit the floor. Darcy pulled her phone out of her pocket, mumbling the whole time. Her face twisted and paled. She went to hit the “Ignore” button, but Bucky pulled it from her hand. He checked the caller ID and scowled.

“James, please, don’t,” she whispered. “I can take care of-“

“But you _haven’t_. You said you would take care of it a month ago, and the month before that, and the month before that, but you still haven’t,” he replied, pressing the ignore button and setting the phone on the counter. He brushed his flesh fingers gently against her arm, and she pulled away from him. It stung, watching her pull away from him like this. He dropped his hand and clenched the sponge in his metal fist.

“I said I can take care of it myself, James!” she nearly yelled at him. “Don’t you believe I can take care of myself?”

“I know you can, but he’s still calling and you’re acting all secretive about it. I’m worried, doll.”

“What if I just don’t want to talk about it, huh? You ever think of that? No, you fucking didn’t. Let me tell you something, Barnes, I did just fine with stalker guys before I met you, and I can handle them just fine n-“

“Stalker?” asked Bucky, his shoulders tensing. “Is Storm stalking you?”

“IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS,” she screamed. “Back the hell off, Barnes. I don’t need a hero; I can take care of myself.” She grabbed her phone and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Bucky standing there, shocked. He turned and slammed his normal hand down onto the granite counter, relishing the sting of pain. He did it again, wincing at the crack of his flesh against stone. On the eighth time his fist connected with the counter, he heard not only the crack of bone, but the crack of the countertop as well.

“Fuck,” he growled. Darcy was gonna be even more mad. He made his way down to the gym to work off some of his emotions before he even tried to apologize.

 

**.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.**

 

“Hey man, you okay?” asked Clint, strolling up to Bucky as he decimated a punching bag.

“No,” he replied, not bothering to stop hitting the bag. The bag swung on its chain, and  He delivered a kick that sent the bag flying across the room, sand spilling everywhere.

“Talk to me,” came a smooth voice from a few feet over. Natasha was crouched at the edge of the sparring mat, looking over at him with interest. “I’m worried about her too. She turned me away the other night when I showed up with Rocky Road and a bottle of vodka.” Bucky walked over to the redheaded spy. He rubbed at his hand ruefully; the cracked bone was still knitting together. Natasha stood up and grabbed his hand, inspecting the broken bone. “Ты идиот. You broke her counter,” she said. “Your hand is broken, and you go and beat up a punching bag? This isn’t going to heal right if you don’t tape it and stop hitting things.”

“And what if I don’t give a fuck?” growled Bucky, moving to pull his hand back. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, and he let her tape it up. Arguing with Natalia took _effort_ , and he barely had the energy to keep from running to find Darcy. “You’re terrifying,” he remarked. She just smirked.

“Now,” she said, “we figure out what is up with our малютка.”

 

 

Ты идиот—you idiot

Малютка—little one


	5. "Leave me alone"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy just wants to be alone, even if she knows she shouldn't be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty short, but I've edited them all and will be posting the last chapter very soon! I also really, REALLY love sibling relationships, so foisting the protective!siblings relationship onto Tony and Darcy makes me really happy.  
> I hope you enjoy!

**Darcy POV**

 

Darcy was curled up in the corner booth of her favorite cafe, a large mug of tea held close to her chest. She had her tablet in front of her, and she was currently staring blankly at her Instagram feed. Her phone buzzed with a text, and she peeked over at it. Natasha’s name was scrolling across the screen, and Darcy swiped the lock open, not wanting to ignore her friend.

 

To: Darcy  
From: Natasha

_Where are you, девочка?_

 

To: Natasha  
From: Darcy

_Doesn’t matter. I want to be alone_

 

She quickly tapped out her response and set the phone down, head in her hands. She knew Natasha wasn’t going to be happy with her answer, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She had done her absolute best to get Johnny to leave her alone. He had stopped calling for a few weeks, even. But a few nights ago, she ran into him in a bar, and he redoubled his efforts to be with her. He just wasn’t getting the hint. She sipped her tea and resumed blankly staring at her tablet.

“If you really want to be alone, you should know to turn your phone off,” said a familiar voice from Darcy’s left. She turned her head and stuck her tongue out at Tony.

She scooted her stuff closer towards her on the small tabletop, and he slid into the seat across from her. “I know. I just know James and Steve won’t think of pinging my phone, and I know everyone else respects my privacy too much to pry like that. You’re the only one who would actually go through with it, and we both know I shouldn’t be alone.” Darcy quirked the side of her mouth upwards in a half smile towards the man who had functionally adopted her as a younger sister after her cousin almost died.

“He’s just worried about you,” replied Tony, plucking her tea off the table where she had set it and taking a sip. He pulled a face. “God, what are you drinking?”

“Oolong with honey; it helps my anxiety. And I know, but it seems like he doesn’t trust me to be able to take care of my own problems,” she replied.

Tony shrugged as a starry-eyed barista brought him his coffee. He smiled and slid a folded bill into her hand before turning back to Darcy. “We all know you’re capable of handling your own problems. And I know that you _did_ handle your problems. Storm stopped calling for two and a half weeks, but he started up again recently. Why? What happened?”

“I ran into him outside Fat Jack’s the other day, after I had a few drinks with some work friends. It’s kind of a blur, but I’m pretty sure he was hitting on me and I wasn’t exactly sober enough to articulate turning him down as well as I would have liked,” she said. “And he’s trying even harder now, and I can’t make him stop without fucking up relations between the FF and Avengers.”

“Fuck shit up with the Fantastic Four, none of us care,” commented Tony. “What we care about is _you_ and how you feel about the whole thing. Literally, the only Four member who will be angry is Torch. Sue will respect you, Richards won’t look up from his work long enough to give two shits, and Ben will be his usual stony self.” He smiled to himself at his pun, and Darcy just rolled her eyes and snorted. She sipped her tea and looked at the dark-haired billionaire across from her. His brown eyes were earnest, and his brow was furrowed a bit as he looked back at her. “Seriously, Darce. If you don’t do something, we will.”

She sighed and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Fine. I’ll call him.”

“Do it now,” said Tony, moving her phone closer to her. “You need support for this one.” Darcy smiled shakily at Tony, who gently tapped the toe cap of her boot with the sole of his shoe. She took a deep breath as she picked up her phone and dialed Johnny’s number.

“Hey Darce,” answered the chipper voice of the flaming hero. “What’s up, babe?”

“Um, hi Johnny. I was just calling because, um, there was a miscommunication the other night.” Her hand was shaking as she held her tea, and she quickly set it down, squeezing her fingers into a fist.

He replied, voice confused, “Does Saturday not work for dinner? We can totally plan another day, if that’s what it is.”

“No, Johnny, that’s not what it is. See, the thing is, I don’t want to go out with you. The other night, I was drunk, and I should have just said ‘no’ when you asked me out, instead of trying to make excuses.” She sat very still as she waited for him to respond.

“I see,” he replied, voice guarded. “Would this have anything to do with a conversation with a certain metal-armed, amnesiac war criminal?”

Darcy ground her teeth, angry that Johnny fucking Storm thought he had the right to insult Bucky. “No, Storm. I’m capable of making my own decisions, thank you very much. And you would do well to remember that Barnes is a decorated American veteran.”

“If you can make your own decisions, why is Stark sitting with you?” he replied, but his voice wasn’t coming from the phone. Darcy looked up and met the angry blue eyes of one very pissed off Johnny Storm. Flames were flickering on the edge of reality around him. “Stop trying to take her away from me!” he roared to Stark, his phone starting to melt in his hand.

“Whoa, man, I have nothing to do with this. I’m moral support,” said Tony, holding up his hands.

“Storm, stop it!” snapped Darcy, trying incredibly hard to hold her emotions in check as Johnny threatened Tony. He gripped Tony by the front of his jacket and lifted him out of his chair. Not even a second later, Clint and Natasha barreled through the front door. Clint began quietly evacuating people as Natasha stalked towards Storm.

“Drop him, Torch,” she growled, Widow Bites glowing on her wrists. Tony hit the floor and moved to stand between Johnny and Darcy.

“Darcy, run,” said Clint as he came closer. The café had been cleared out, and Natasha had her eyes locked on the man threatening her little sister.

“Don’t you dare fucking move,” hissed Johnny, whirling on Darcy. She growled and pushed her way to stand in front of Tony as flames licked at the soles of Johnny’s shoes. Fire danced in his eyes and sparks flew from his blond hair.

 

 _девочка_ (Russian)- girl


	6. One Shocking Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strong, independent woman who can easily deal with creepy stalkers is . . . shocking, at least to the creepy stalkers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought the summary was clever, I'm aware it's cheesy as all fuck. But what's life without a little bit of cheesy goodness? Anyway, here's the end of this work! Let me know if you want to see more from this 'verse.   
> I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you so much for reading!

**Bucky**

To: Bucky   
From: Clint _  
At her favorite café on Third; Storm is here and he looks MAD_

 

Bucky sprinted down the street, specks of shaving cream flying off his face, not caring that his arm was fully visible to those he passed. His phone had buzzed with a text from Clint a few minutes ago, and his heart had almost stopped. He dropped his razor with a clatter into the sink and run out of the bathroom, grabbing his knife from the bedside table before shoving his feet into combat boots and heading out the door. He had yelled something to Jarvis about telling the other Avengers before sprinting to the café that Clint’s text had indicated.

He skidded to a stop outside the café and barreled through the door. He was greeted by the scene of Clint with an arrow aimed at Storm’s kneecap, Natasha with a gun aimed at him, and Tony with his gauntlets aimed at Storm’s balls. But they weren’t stopping him from screaming his head off at Darcy, who was standing kind of in front of Tony. He could see the tears streaming down her face and the shaking of her knees. Bucky stalked forward, knife drawn, only to find himself stopped by Natasha’s hand on his chest.

“She needs to handle this on her own,” she said lowly. “But we’re here if she needs us.” Bucky grit his teeth and growled. As much as he hated it, he acknowledged that ripping Storm’s head off in public was probably not a good idea.

“You fucking slut, you’ve been cheating on me this whole goddamn time,” yelled Storm, getting closer and closer to Darcy. His hair was sparking, and flames were dancing around his fingertips.

“We were never toge-” began Darcy, trying to maneuver her way back to her bag. Johnny slammed his hand down onto the table, sending sparks flying and splintering the wood. Bucky clenched his teeth so hard his jaw clicked painfully. Natasha’s hand moved from his chest to grip his arm, physically restraining him.

“LIAR!” Storm screamed. “STOP LYING TO ME, DARCY!”

“I’M NOT LYING,” she yelled back, tears tracking down her chin to her neck.

“Yes, you are, you cheating whore! You’re lying to me and to yourself, because you don’t want to believe that you’re completely undesirable. Nobody wants you, you slut. Nobody wants anything more than a single night with your tits, especially not that cyborg freak, Barnes.” Johnny moved closer to Darcy, who now had the look of a madwoman in her eyes. She was fiddling with her bracelet.

“Back the fuck up, Storm,” she hissed. “Because you can insult me all you goddamn please, and I’ll take it. Because you’re not saying anything I don’t say to myself every goddamn day.” Her eyes flicked up to the others in the room with her, and Bucky tried to school his expression into one of stoicism. But he knew she had caught the flash of pain and sympathy that had flashed across his face. She smiled sadly at him. “But you know what’s not okay with me?  Having some halfwit who thinks he’s the shit because he bursts into flames insult someone I really fucking like and care about, especially when that someone has worked so fucking _hard_ just to be who he is today. That’s one hundred percent not okay with me, Sparky. If I wanted to date someone who thought they were ‘hot shit’,” – her fingers curled into air quotes next to her head – “I’d light a bag of dog shit on fire and take it to dinner. So back. The fuck. Up.” She twisted her bracelet again, and two wires shot out of it and hit Johnny dead in the center of his chest. He twitched and then promptly fell on the floor, where he continued to twitch and drool. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and almost stopped as Darcy stood above Storm as he passed out on the floor. Tony carefully reached for her arm and disengaged the bracelet taser.

“Good to know that works; thanks for the real-world applications test,” he joked quietly. Darcy giggled quietly, a choked sob making its way out of her throat. Bucky wanted to go to her, but Natasha hadn’t let go of his arm yet.

“Darcy, are you alright?” asked Clint, stashing his bow and stepping towards the brunette.

“Never been better,” she said picking up her stuff and walking over the passed-out member of the Fantastic Four, stepping on his lower abdomen and just catching his crotch with her high-heeled boots. Bucky, Clint, and Tony involuntarily winced.

“Do you want us to drive you home?” asked Tony, moving towards Darcy.

She scrubbed smudges of makeup from under her eyes. “Nah, I’m good guys. See you later.” She then proceeded to strut out of the coffee shop, her purse slung over her shoulder and her tea in her hand. Bucky’s brain finally caught up with what had just happened, and a stupid grin began to spread over his face. She liked him. He had a chance.

“Well that was an adventure,” said Stark, putting away his gauntlets. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk compensation with the manager.” He strolled off to the counter where a couple scared workers were peeking over the marble top.

Clint shook his head as he tapped out a quick text message on his phone before asking, “Hey, Buck, you wanna go pick the Flaming Asshole up from the floor? Ben should be here in a few to pick this loser up. Also, nice shave job.” Bucky ran a hand over his half-shaven jaw as he walked over to the semi-conscious ‘superhero’. He paused for a moment and looked down at himself before sighing in relief; he was, in fact, wearing pants. It had been the last thing on his mind as he had run out of the Tower, and it would have been very embarrassing if he had run across town to save a girl who didn’t need saving in his boxer briefs. He leaned down and grabbed Storm around the waist before roughly slinging the unconscious man over his shoulder, making sure that the seam between flesh and metal was digging into his stomach.

“C’mon, asshat, time to send you home,” Bucky grunted as he hauled him outside. Ben Grimm was waiting outside, arms crossed over his stone chest.

“Sue and I would like to formally apologize for Johnny’s behavior; his actions will be dealt with accordingly,” he said as Bucky came into view. “If you could let Darcy know that if there’s anything Sue or I can do for her, we’d be grateful. Also, if you know what her favorite flowers are, I personally would like to send her some as a thank you for knocking this jackass out.” He held out an arm, and Bucky, none too gently, handed Johnny over to his handler.

“I’m not the one who needs the apology, but thanks all the same,” said Bucky, shaking hands with the stone man. “And Darcy really likes brightly colored gerbera daisies.”

“Thanks, Barnes. Maybe one day this will be behind us and our groups can fully work together. ‘Till then, you call me if you need anything,” said Ben before turning to leave. Johnny was starting to come to, and Bucky saw Ben adjust his hold on the superhero so that some of the more protruding parts of his body dug into Johnny in some tender and uncomfortable places.

“C’mon, Bucky, let’s head home,” said Natasha, putting her hand on his shoulder. “We have a Darcy to find and cuddle.”  Bucky blinked; he doubted he would ever be used to his little Natalia voicing her love for cuddling.

 

**.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.**

Later that night, Bucky was lounging on the couch in his apartment, having finished shaving and changed into a pair of flannel pajama pants. He was marathoning a show Darcy had recommended called _Friends_ that apparently “defined the culture of the nineties and early two thousands”. The characters were currently building a very long stick out of old chopsticks to poke Ugly Naked Guy to see if he was still alive. He couldn’t laugh at them, though, because he couldn’t stop thinking about Darcy. He, Natasha, Clint, and Tony had arrived back at the Tower to find a plate heaping with sandwiches and a tower of cupcakes on the counter in Darcy’s kitchen. There was a note requesting that she be left alone for a while, too. Natasha had forced Bucky to obey, though she herself had wormed her way into Darcy’s apartment with two pints of Coffee Toffee Crunch and a bottle of whipped cream vodka. Bucky found his mind wandering back to that morning – had it really been that recently? – when Darcy was licking whipped cream off a spoon while they were flirting in the kitchen. He also thought back to her taking down Storm like it was nothing, how _she_ defended _his_ honor, and how in no way did he _ever_ want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. She had looked so powerful and strong and sexy walking out of there like nothing had happened, and all Bucky could do was _want_ her and hope for her to allow him in to talk to her soon. He picked up his beer and took a swig, yelping when the condensation from the outside of the cold bottle dripped onto his bare chest.

Midnight came and went, and _Friends_ had just become background noise for his thoughts – and some fantasies – about Darcy. He was mindlessly munching on pizza and drinking a beer when there was a knock at the door. He got up, beer still in hand, and opened the door, thinking it was Natasha coming by to let him know if Darcy was at least okay. He almost dropped his beer when he saw Darcy standing there.

“Hi,” she said softly. “Can we – uh, are you busy?”

“N-no, come in,” he said, moving quickly to the side and gesturing with his beer for her to enter. He looked her over as she moved past him, and his knees almost gave out when he saw she was wearing _another_ one of his shirts. This one was a white button down, – where in the name of all that was holy was she getting them? – and he could faintly see the outline of her bra through the fabric. She had on short, plaid pajama shorts, and her bare feet were silent on the wooden floors. “How are you? Can I get you anything? Do you want water? I might have a bottle of wine somewhere,” babbled Bucky, closing the door behind him as Darcy sat on the couch and curled her knees up to her chest.

“Just come sit down, you big dork,” she said, a small smile on her lips. Bucky set his beer down on the counter and moved a bit too quickly towards the couch, tripping on the seam between tile and wood flooring and landing on his face.

“Ugh,” he groaned, getting up.

“You alright?” asked Darcy, peeking over the couch, one eyebrow raised. Bucky awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and grinned at her. He felt the heat rising in his cheeks and quickly jumped over the back of the couch to sit next to the giggling Darcy.

“The better question is are _you_ alright? I’ve been worried about you,” said Bucky, turning his body towards her on the couch. Her eyes darted to his bare chest before meeting his eyes.

She shrugged, picking at the rolled-up sleeves on her shirt. “I’m okay. Today was a hot mess. I’m really sorry for yelling at you earlier, and that you had to see my confrontation with Johnny. That wasn’t an impression of me I wanted you to have.”

“It’s totally fine, Darce. I had mostly forgotten about the yelling, to be honest,” he replied. “There was one thing you said when yelling at Storm – which was terrifying, by the way. Remind me to never get on your bad side – that really stuck out to me.”

Her pale cheeks flushed, and it spread down her neck, which was semi-exposed by the few undone buttons on the shirt. “You’d have to do a _lot_ of really bad shit to get on my bad side Barnes, I think you’re safe. And yeah, that wasn’t exactly the way I wanted you to find out,” she said, running a hand through her wild hair. “Also, just so you are aware, I’m a bit tipsy. Half a bottle of whipped cream vodka will do that to a girl.”

“I am very okay with finding out that way. I’m glad I found out at all. I, uh, fuck, doll, I – well, I really like you a lot, too.” She grinned up at him, the cocky, flirty Darcy he first fell for returning. The collar of the shirt had shifted over, and he caught a glimpse of red lace. He bit back a groan. “And, just to put this out there, Storm lied to you. I really, really fucking want you.”

She blushed even more and bit her lip, looking up at Bucky from through thick lashes. “Oh really? Well, I’m not sure I believe you. I might need a little bit of proof.” Her voice was low and husky, and she shifted closer to Bucky.

“Fuck, Darce,” he groaned, pulling her closer with one arm around her waist and the other tangled in her hair. “Tell me you want this, Darcy. Because I want all of you. From the terrifying goddess that I saw earlier to the adorable woman who needs someone to reach the top shelves in the kitchen: I want it all.”

Darcy giggled and pulled herself closer to him. “Yes, Bucky. All of it. Now, kiss me, you idiot.” Their lips crashed together in a tangle of tongue, lipgloss, and teeth. The last thing Bucky heard, before she bit his lip and he spiraled into the blissful symphony of moans and groans that was finally kissing Darcy, was the three chimes of the small clock above his fireplace.


End file.
